A Span of Sixty Years
by BelleIllumina
Summary: Summary: There was a woman (little girl, young girl, lassie, suddenly a woman, next moment a teen) that visited him under the mountain and amusingly, she wasn't afraid of dragons for many reasons. First, was that he wouldn't eat or hurt her because he was a good dragon. Him, a good dragon. Second, was that he was in her dream. Her name, was Susan Pevensie. [NarniaxHobbit]
1. 7 Curiosity

Summary: There was a woman (_little girl, young girl, lassie, suddenly a woman, next moment a teen_) that visited him under the mountain and amusingly, she wasn't afraid of dragons for many reasons. First, was that he wouldn't eat or hurt her because he was a good dragon. Him, a good dragon. Second, was that he was in her dream. Her name, was Susan Pevensie. [NarniaxHobbit]

**7. CURIOSITY**

It was the faint smell of lilies that made Smaug open his golden eyes. It was a long day full of scaring foolish dwarves and men, burning down any structure close the mountain and just solidifying his claim to Erebor. He had been dozing off that time when he caught the scent of lilies. He pushed it off as a passing thought and maybe even a hallucination, but it didn't disappear. He gave it another moment and then pulled his head out of the pile of gold. With a tilt of his head, he contemplated on what course of action to take and if it would be worth the effort. At the same time, he was curious.

Dwarf? No. Definitely not. The dragon took another whiff, detecting the soft aroma of lilies. Elf? Nope. Elves might smell of flowers, but it would be mixed of the forest and the river… a general smell of the outside. Men? Never. He had scared them time and again that no one would be foolish enough to come close his mountain. It was also impossible for any type of lily that he knew to grow under the mountain, unless… Smaug paused for thought. Could there be an opening somewhere the side of the mountain that could let the scent in? Maybe, but he had explored the mountain and he had never seen any.

Then there was a sound. Smaug started, his head moving higher and his golden eyes squinting in focus. The sound was soft and the vibrations barely reached where he laid but he felt it. It was a small sound, short in length and a little high-pitched. He decided that this definitely needed some investigation.

Standing in all fours, he shook the gold that stuck on his scales and straightened up. The sound echoed again, a little louder and more high-pitched. The frequency of the sound was bothersome, like an inch to the side that you cannot reach but should scratch. A stray animal? He thought as he stretched his limbs awake. If so, then food or a chase would be a welcome entertainment tonight.

Smaug moved, his body changing with each careful step. His first step on the ledge leading to the hallways, his wings had gone and all that was left as evidence that he was a dragon, other than his still golden eyes, were the scales on his shoulder blades. In this form, he could pass as a Man, maybe even an Elf of Rivendell if he let his hair grow longer.

It was time to search for the cause of the sound and the sudden aroma of lilies. It was time to satiate his curiosity.

There it went again.

Weaving through hallways and stepping over debris, he followed the sound that increased in frequency. He didn't stop, using his superior sense of smell to track down the scent of lilies when the sound was absent. It was dark enough that a Man would need a torch to navigate the way. The darkness loomed over him like storm clouds threatening rain and disaster. But Smaug was a dragon and he barely cared of his circumstances. He carried on, his eyes steady looking onward.

The sound came again, louder, closer and clearer. A voice.

"Mum?" Smaug moved to the shadows when he spotted the object of his search. Ten strides ahead him, was a child. A young girl in a billowing nightgown and a head of flaxen gold. She was standing on the edge of a much brighter hallway, staring in the darkness with wide blue eyes. Her hands were fisted around her nightgown and her face was scrunched in internal argument. She was pale, so pale that she was glowing and could easily be an elf child. "Mum?"

She took a step closer to the darkness, her eyes squinted as if trying to see what was there. She was barefoot and he saw that she was careful in her step. "Is anyone there?"

The sound echoed, rejected by the walls and passed on to others until it faded. Smaug retreated, his eyes glued on her little form. He moved inside a room and tore the curtains, covering his naked form. _What? Surely you didn't think he would transform clothed?_ He had thought that it was of little consequence when he started the search since if it was a dwarf or someone who would wish his death, he would've turned back to a dragon and burned him. He had the same plans if it was a stray animal. He never expected that it was a little girl. He quickly, but silently moved returning to his post and satisfied that the lass was still there. She was still looking at the darkness but her face was more relaxed than before, curiosity painting her pale face. He watched her carefully, wondering why a girl such as her would be in a place like this. By her nightgown, it was clear she was well taken care of and there was a family in the picture. She started looking around, picking a rock and then throwing it to the dark hallway. He could see her listening carefully and thinking hard. The emotions in her eyes racing like fire dancing.

He smothered a chuckle when she took a piece of wood and turned it on her hand. What does she think? That such small piece of wood would protect her from what laid in the darkness? Did it mean that she wanted to venture this darkness? He wondered if he would call her brave or foolish. She held the wood like a sword, her stance all wrong. She took a step closer and another, determined. Did she ever thought how long the darkness is? Foolish little girl.

He decided to cut this foolishness short, taking an abandoned torch on the wall and lighting it up with his fire breath. There was a squeal and he turned his head lazily to the girl, catching her shocked expression and her two hand grip around her _sword_. He grinned.

"Who are you little girl?" He raised his brow and tilted his head. "Why are you here in my lair?"

Her sword lowered and she also observed him from head to toe. "Lair? Shouldn't it be called a home?"

"My home is long gone." He waited a few beats before continuing. "You didn't answer my question girl."

She tensed and red dusted her cheeks in embarrassment. "I am sorry sir. You see I just woke up in this place and I am sure that I am dreaming this place. I am sure you are part of my dream too."

"How can you say?" He was intrigued. Him? A dream? This place? A dream to wake up to? Preposterous. But when he thought of it, who was dreaming who? Was she a dream of his then?

"Well…" She lowered her sword completely and patted her nightgown. "I have pinched myself and felt pain, but places like this are only in Mum's stories. And I have not met anyone with golden eyes like you." She took a deep breath. "If this is not a dream, then I should wake up in my bed."

How logical, Smaug mused. "You have felt pain, but still you deem this a dream. How foolish you are little girl. What could've happened if you were hurt?"

"I wouldn't. This is just a dream after all. My dream too." Stubborn. "Who are you sir?"

Well, if this was a dream then this little girl would hardly remember it when she wakes up. Or, if this was his dream, then it would be nothing but a passing thought. "Smaug. Put down that useless sword of yours, girl, and follow me. As long as you are with me, no harm will come to you."

He turned around and started walking, not caring if the girl would be scared of following him when she was sure in venturing the darkness before. He heard the clatter of wood and the whisper of moving cloth. Soon enough, he saw her catching up on his side. "Just Smaug?" Her question made him pause and look at her with a raised brow. She blinked and continued in explanation. "Well, do you not have a last name?"

"Like a title?"

She bit her lip in thought. "Could be?"

"They call me Smaug the Stupendous." He stopped and turned again, waiting as she maneuvered her way around the debris. She was such a small child, barely reaching his waist. Her blonde hair fell around her in a mess of waves. If it wasn't for her ears, he would've deemed her an elf. Maybe even one of Thranduil's. He pushed the thought since it was useless to dwell on it any longer when the child was clearly human. "Among others."

"Mr. Stupendous?" She halted, looking at him with such a sour expression that he laughed. He laughed loud and it echoed through the hallways. The red on her cheeks returned and her hands gripped her nightgown. She also looked like she was trying not to cry.

"Smaug is fine." He held out his hand. "Who are you little lass?"

She took deep breaths and sniffled a bit. When she met his gaze with her lips in a straight line, he admired her courage and stomped down the little voice that expressed the wish to see her cry. "Susan Pevensie."

"Come, Susan Pevensie. Let me show you my lair." Her hand was so small around his and it was warm. It was real, so real.

He helped her through the obstacles on the way to the treasury and when the darkness faded away, he abandoned the torch. Susan Pevensie was a quiet and observant girl, with her blue eyes jumping and taking in every detail. She was also a curious lass and what he found amusing was that she asked the right questions.

"Why do you live alone here?"

"How can you say?"

"Well, you call this place 'my lair'."

"Correct."

"So why do you live alone?"

"Because there's no one else."

"Dead?"

"Yes."

"Are you sad?"

He thought long and hard on how to answer such query.

"Maybe."

"Oh. Why?"

"Why are they dead?"

"Uh-huh."

"War killed them."

"Oh." She was quiet taking and processing the information he easily gave her. "Dad told us that war is an ugly thing."

"Us?"

"Pete and I. Mum doesn't like Dad telling Ed and Lu things like that yet." She smiled proud. "Mum said they aren't old enough."

He helped her jump over a ledge, and then took her in his arms so that they could easily bolt over a fallen column.

"Why aren't you finding someone to live with you?"

"Do I need someone?"

"Well, someone to take care of you."

"I can take care of myself."

"Someone to love you then." She just smiled, proud once more with her words. "Mum said we all need someone to be happy."

"There is no one to search for."

"Why?"

"There is no one left like me."

She tilted her head and watched his face. He could feel it like a waves splashing against the shore. They made their trek in silence after that. Her hand in his and their bare footsteps echoing faintly.

"Come, Susan Pevensie." He led her to the treasury and watched as her mouth formed an 'O'. Her eyes widened and reflected the gold that littered around them. "Here is where I stay."

"Gold?" She couldn't believe it. It was clear on how she turned to him, on how her voice was shy a whisper and on how she gripped his hand.

"Yes."

"Why?" Her face was scrunched again and he found himself smiling at seeing it once more. "I can't see a bed and it doesn't look comfortable."

"Because, my dear Susan Pevensie, I am a dragon."

Why would he show her his dragon form? Simple, (and quite foolish if you ask him afterward) he wanted to see Susan's reaction. The fear that he expected was fleeting, replaced by wonder and curiosity (_always curiosity_). He relished the expression, something surprising and rare. Such a strange child.

"Do you not fear me? Do you not fear that I will hurt you?" He asked as he leveled his large face to where she was. He laid there like he always did, his tail moving to and fro in expression of his intrigue. Susan Pevensie just sat on a boulder watching him as he did to her. She had expressed her awe in words a few moments ago, before she quieted down enough for him to ask.

"You said that as long as I am with you, no harm will come to me." She mimicked his words simply, as if it was truth. "Why would I fear you then?"

"What if I lied back then?" His voice rumbled as he tried to break this little girl's logic.

"You're a good dragon." She shrugged, as if that statement explained everything. Him? Smaug the Destroyer, a good dragon. What would the world say if they heard such statement, from a little innocent girl nonetheless. "And this is my dream, so I wouldn't let you hurt me."

He sighed, his breath making her hair and her nightgown flutter. He held his paw_(? Hand?)_ out to her the second time in invitation. She readily accepted, moving to sit on his palm and holding on one of his talons.

What a trusting young child Susan Pevensie was. A curious mix of logic and imagination.

He showed her toys and trinkets. He laughed when she wore the gaudy necklaces and tried to stuff her fingers full of rings. He watched as she chucked them all off because it was too heavy. He made sure to stop her when she asked if he would wear the jewels. He followed her with his gaze as she made her way carefully through the mounts of gold in exploration. Her exclamations of glee and interest was something he found entertaining. His tail was there hovering nearby whenever she was close to slipping, or when her feet buried easily through the gold. She would laugh when his tail would pull her out and place her steady again and again. She never forgot to thank him too.

She was a quiet child, but when she starts speaking, it was something interesting.

"Have you stolen princesses?" She quipped suddenly when she found a small crown that fit her head perfectly. The crown was made of sapphires and diamonds, imitating that of the waves of the sea.

"No." He helped her make her way to him with his tail, her arms full of her new discoveries. Previously, she had shown him a golden sculpture of a horse the size of her palm. With that trinket came a story of how her brother Peter almost fell off a horse in one of their trips outside of town.

"Do you know a dragon who had stolen a princess?"

"No."

"Hmm. Well that's something the stories got wrong."

Then, she told him of stories where dragons stole princesses and how knights or princes would come to rescue them. Smaug scoffed at this, telling her that never could one man defeat a dragon, especially of his size and power. Susan shrugged and told him again that maybe it was something that the stories got wrong.

"Never trust the stories Susan Pevensie."

"Maybe I won't. I have never heard a princess' side of the story."

Then she went back in exploring, his tail always hovering to assist her.

"Are you really not going to find someone?" She asked when she returned, her arms holding fewer trinkets than before.

"I already told you there are no others like me."

"Maybe not a dragon." For a young girl, she spoke and thought advanced than any child he had encountered in a while.

"People fear dragons."

"Well… that is something the stories got right." She smiled as she sorted her new findings. "I'm not scared of you though."

She looked meticulously at each trinket, as if memorizing each detail that was on it. A keen eye that he found himself interested in. Would she know that they were made by the dwarves? Would she know that this was once their dwelling? That as her stories told, dragons stealing gold was another truth?

"How about you stay here with me then?" She paused for a moment, then placed the trinket in her hand down.

"What?"

"Do you want to stay here?"

"With all these toys?"

"Yes. The trinkets too."

"Really?" Doubt colored her blue eyes and turned her lips down.

"Yes."

"I can't."

He saw her sorrow and he wondered if it was because she wanted to agree to his offer but couldn't, or because she was afraid of offending him. "Why?"

"Ed would need someone to play with when Peter doesn't want to. Mum needs some help with taking care of Lucy. Dad was planning we go to the park when weekend comes. Peter will need help making bedtime stories."

"And you?"

"I don't want them to worry."

She was such a mature child, one that made Smaug think if her childhood way of thinking was stolen or was neglected at will. He studied the girl as she once again made another exploration and was startled when she squealed. Her face was carved with a smile as she staggered her way to him, her hands gripping tight on something. The moment she stopped, she held it out to him with all excitement.

"What is it?"

"You don't know?"

"Which is why I am asking."

She huffed and clambered on the ledge so that she could place it there. Carefully, she opened the lid and music filled the room in the next moment. Her eyes fluttered close and her excited smile softened. A music box. She found a music box and had discarded everything for this. Smaug observed her expressions and found himself taken by her childhood awe and curiosity. The way her eyes took everything in consideration and how her thoughts worked. They listened as the music carried on in signature dwarf fashion of deep tones and hollow echoes, punctuated by lovely twinkling of bells.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

"Indeed. You will make a fine treasure hunter." She chuckled at the compliment, hiding the blush on her cheeks by looking away.

It was cut short though when she suddenly looked up and listened to something he couldn't hear. It spanned a few moments before she spoke to him. "Can't you hear that?"

"No." Not even his superior senses could.

"Peter's calling me for breakfast. I should go."

She stood up and straightened her nightgown, wrinkling her nose at the dust and soot that it acquired. He, on the other hand, was confused at what she was speaking of. Clearly, it was something that was exclusive to her and that he would never hear it. So with a few moments of having Susan close her eyes, he changed once more so that she could escort her to wherever she must go. Words were few as she helped her once more up the steps and the debris, when they were past the column, she said she needed to go on alone.

"Till next time Smaug." She waved her hand.

"Dream of me when that happens." He joked, his own hand in a wave.

She turned and he witnessed when the darkness engulfed her nightgown. He was witness when Susan Pevensie disappeared in thin air. He wondered, whose dream was this?


	2. 11 Music Box

Smaug had thought of Susan Pevensie for a few days every month that passed. He found himself thinking of the little girl that glowed like a star in the dark sky with how pale she was. He also heard her voice in his thoughts and her golden hair. It was certainly quite an entertainment that toppled scaring dwarves and destroying villages when he was bored. Boredom was pushed to the bay with recalling young Susan, how she spoke, how she would blush and her nonexistent fear of dragons.

It was a good dream.

Imagine his surprise when after a round about the mountain, he found her sitting on the ledge she was previously sitting on when he entered the treasury. He needed to look closer to make sure, because her hair was darker even when the scent of lilies was the same. She sat there, the music box she found in her first visit on her lap. Grown and her hair now auburn. (_He had left it where it was and listened to it when he was too bored, or when he was missing her. He wouldn't speak of the latter though._)

It was a good dream. For her. Now Smaug was sure he wasn't the one dreaming. (_Maybe he was hallucinating, but the magic of Middle Earth could conjure anything._)

Even with his entrance of flapping wings and echoing footsteps, she remained bowed. Her hands were gripping the music box to tight and her shoulders were hunched so low. Her tresses was a curtain to the outside world and Smaug contemplated on what action he should do. He would ask himself later why he cared about the girl's emotions when he had destroyed and burned a thousand of little girls' lives. He would wonder later, but his decision was that he was Smaug the Last Dragon of this age, and he could do what the hell he wanted. If that was to spare a lass' life, then so be it.

"Lassie." His voice rumbled and echoed before the mountain absorbed it.

Silence.

"How are you no-longer-little Susan Pevensie?" He tried again and watched her with gemlike eyes.

She took a deep breath, and he saw how her shoulder shook. A few moments passed as they waited for the echoes to be swallowed. Then she looked up and he was surprised that her eyes were red rimmed but there were no tear tracks on her cheeks. He had expected her to be crying, yes, but didn't expect that she was keeping it in. The music box played unceasingly in the background. Her lower lip was chapped from being bitten. There were dark rims around her eyes due to sleepless nights.

Susan Pevensie was clearly distressed and she was doing a magnificent job of hiding it until now.

"Hello Smaug." He commended her in his mind for the steady voice, but he heard through the nonchalance that she failed to cement.

"Hello Susan Pevensie. I am glad that you dreamt of me again." His fangs showed when his dragon lips curled to a smile.

Slowly he watched as Susan Pevensie pushed her tears back and built her walls once more.

"Cheeky Smaug. I am glad that I didn't get lost in this place of yours like before."

"Where did you show up tonight?"

"Where I did last time. Thank you for having the torches lit."

He was quiet for a moment, neither denying nor agreeing to what she thanked him for. "So why did you come Susan?"

Their conversations were a careful dance with steps thought of. He found a pattern in her evasions and how she would pause to think. How her eyes would shift in the golden light as she laid her plans.

A silence that he was waiting to be broken.

"I do not know." Truth.

"Have you thought of it?"

"No." Truth.

"Would you be willing to find out?"

"…Maybe." Indecisive. Smaug nodded, moving to curl up on his stomach on the foot of the ledge. He could wait. He was patient enough to wait for the Dwarf King Thror to fall.

"Smaug?" The silence was broken by her small voice, weak but no longer tear-stained.

"Yes child?" He answered without moving anything except his mouth.

"Have you ever gone and fought a war?" He almost didn't hear it, but his hearing was superior and even if he didn't catch it, the echoes would tell him.

"Yes. I have. We may be dragons but we have ties of our own. We protect our own." _Why Susan Pevensie? _He wanted to ask but knew that he shouldn't. He knew that patience could lead to the answers he sought. Once again, the music box took center stage in the silence.

"Smaug?"

"Hmm?" He opened his eyes and spied her looking at him. He was relieved that her eyes were no longer red rimmed, but they were still troubled. Her body movements though, were far from the rattled ones she had when he first saw her.

"Have you ever… waited?" She faltered on the last word.

"Waited for?"

"Someone to go back from the war." He finally raised his head and met Susan's gaze.

"No. I haven't."

"Oh."

This time, he didn't let the conversation fade to silence.

"Who will be going to war?" Susan's eyes faltered in their contact with his, and he saw the fear she hid behind her eyes as clear as daylight. Still, she kept quiet. "Do you know that in this world, even younger men… even children had gone to war? In the days of the Dragons, I have seen and killed boys younger than you who wore armor and wielded a sword."

"Killed? Who wouldn't want you killed? Thief of kingdoms who used gold as a bed." He was taken aback by her viciousness. The fear eclipsed into bitterness, and once again he was witness to Susan Pevensie who thought far to the future than any child he had seen. "All the death just because of the whim of one man."

"Was Peter called to war?"

"No! He's too young!"

"Then tell me who? Is it a dear friend?" He knew who it would be, but he wanted to hear it from her lips. He wanted to see the emotions in her eyes more clearly.

"My father. He had been called to war a few months ago." Her voice was dead, resigned. War changed everyone.

"There is something else troubling you." He laid his head on the ledge, his snout just shy from her skirts. She seemed to be more relaxed with getting that out. "Tell me."

"What can you do? Burn all the Axis so the Allies win?" She chuckled. He couldn't help being amused at how her words deemed the world black and white.

"What good would that do? Did you not say that this war was started by a whim of one man?" He scrutinized her with a sneer. "Arms and legs can be replaced. Destroy the head and everything will fall."

"Unless there is someone to take over. The reasons might not be the same but the greed for power would forever be."

"Destroying the head would give you time to take away any chance of replacement."

Like what he did with Thror. Destroyed the head. Incapacitated Thrain. Prevented the chance of replacement. Distracted Thorin. Gave himself time.

"Do you understand now young one?"

"Yes. It does not change the fact that I can hardly do anything." She sighed. "We, Peter, Edmund and I, will be leaving in the morning for boarding school. I fear for my mother and Lucy, all alone in our home. I fear for my friends who are evacuating but I know nowhere is safe. Lucy and Edmund, oh they shouldn't be living in such a time as this."

She took a deep breath.

"There are planes, comparable to small dragons and made of metal, that fly through the clouds and drop explosives to houses. The sky will be so dark and the silence is always deafening. Then there will be death."

He hardly understood the terms she used, but he understood the degree of pain she was feeling, in a way. He wasn't always the destroyer. He wasn't always the Last Dragon.

"What is boarding school?"

"Oh! It's a school. A place of learning but the students would stay there because it is too far away for them to travel to and fro every day. The students can only come home during the holidays or when the term ends."

"You do not want to go there?"

"I do not want to go there. I don't want us to go there and leave Mum alone."

"Do you want to stay here?"

"I would, but this is just a dream. I will wake up and would be leaving soon. Peter did say that we could still see each other since our schools are just nearby. Edmund said that we could write to each other. Lucy, dear Lu, said that we would all see each other in the holidays. Maybe there would be a chance that Father would come home to."

He found no tear but the sorrow in her tone, the conflict in her gaze was enough. No tears.

"What is this holidays you speak of?"

She spoke of it with a smile, talking about socks and a man in red named Father Christmas. Wistfulness laced in her tone for the happy memories of before. The way she scrunched her nose when she speak of Edmund rolling on snow when it wasn't thick enough. Smaug felt a small amount of relief, feeling something light within him, that he was able to chase the darkness even to a small degree.

"Lucy would be so excited when Christmas Evening comes…" She paused in her tale, her eyes jumping to the hallway where they traveled the first time. Of course, he understood.

"Come." He held his paw out for her to step into, knowing that someone was calling her awake. With a small nod from her, she stepped in carefully and her small hands wrapped around one talon. A few moments later, he laid her down to the stairs that would soon become their place of goodbyes. "Are you sure you will be fine?"

She nodded, an impish smile and her hands clasped on her back. "It's not that scary anymore. It is your home, isn't it? I know I'm safe."

"Then till we meet again Susan Pevensie." He carefully swept her auburn locks back. He decided that the color suited her, and he found himself wishing that it grow even darker. "May you stay safe."

"You too Mr. Stupendous."

He found himself chuckling long after her footsteps faded but it didn't reach his gaze. Seeing her mustered smiles that didn't reach her vibrant eyes, he asked himself if it was better that he let her cry.


	3. 12 To Where We Should Go

**12. To Where We Should Go**

This time, he was sure he was the one dreaming. He stood in front of a wooden door in his human form, the clothes covering his skin reminiscent to the days when he was still surveying Erebor. The wooden door was that of a peculiar house. He knew it was a house, the dark windows were even brighter than a simple room brightened by a candle. The night was quiet, and as much as it wasn't as beautiful or as wild as Middle Earth, Smaug found himself craving, to a degree, the strange beauty that the place had.

Then there was a sound, a strange rumbling that came from above. He looked up and squinted his eyes. Fire dotted the clouds, as well as a whistling that made his lungs constrict. There were blasts and Smaug was witness to _planes (Susan told him about them.)_ as they fired and fell. He was also witness as they dropped big metal cases. He followed one as it fell and felt honest fear when fire erupted the moment it met the ground.

_Have you ever gone off to war?_

Then there was a commotion inside the house. He could hear, feel, the shouts and panicked movement. He heard a cry of a little girl. The thunder of feet on wooden floor. The fear that was just a scent in the air became a choking hazard. To Smaug it was supposed to be exhilarating, but no it wasn't.

_Mum! _The door slammed open and Smaug saw a mother, followed by a young lass and then Susan. Susan, completely dark-haired, earth dressed, still pale, holding a light in a weird canister of metal. Two boys followed her in the same streak for survival. A blast came to close and it colored them yellow. _Mum!_ Smaug watched as Susan went through, ignoring Edmund when he turned back and even when Peter tried to stop his brother from a bout of stupidity. He watched as the boys went back in the house as Susan herded Lucy into the shelter. Their mother screaming for her boys to come back.

Another explosion and he heard a window shattering. The planes were lower and their shadows tinted the grass. _Smaller Dragons made of metal._ He waited for the boys, watching their mother as she waited from the door of their underground house. He moved when the boys appeared, running beside them to get into the shelter with them. Not for his safety, how stupid for him to be hurt in such a dream, but to see what was inside. To see the reality that Susan Pevensie lived.

_Why can't you think of anyone but yourself? You're so selfish! You could've got us killed!_

Who he watched was Susan, his golden eyes all on her. He saw the understanding in Susan's eyes as she gazed at her brother. Watched as Edmund's gaze was glued to the _illustration?_ Of his father. Susan, huddled with her sister and their arms around each other and Edmund in his mother's arms. Peter, golden haired and a monument of fury, stood there with his brow knit.

_Why can't you just do as you're told?_

He watched as Susan's face was buried in Lucy's hair. He saw her shoulders barely shaking and knew that she was curving her own feelings, her own fear, at bay. Tears weren't needed at this time, what was needed was an older sister. What was needed was clear thinking and a logical mind. Too deep in his thoughts, Smaug discovered it too late that the noises were softer and the mother's whispers were inaudible to him. All he could do was look as they huddled together and he knew that a decision was made. When they broke away from each other, it was to bed. He was there when they fluffed their pillows. He was there when their mother caressed the frame of the illustration. He was there when Peter turned his back to Edmund. He saw when Lucy caressed her toy and whispered to it. He saw with clarity Susan's face with nothing but unnerving calmness, even when her eyes were that of chilled ice.

He watched, this once young and golden-haired Susan Pevensie, changed by war into a dark haired and distant young woman.

_"Smaug?" _He stared at their huddled forms once more.

_"Smaug?"_ He blinked, only realizing that someone was calling his name. The sounds became muted and the sharp edges of the objects blurred. _"Smaug!"_

His eyes snapped open and he found Susan's small form down his nose. Her face tilted up and her expression as calm as she did when she fell to slumber. Her clothes were the same. The curls of her hair were the same. From the shoes to the hair tie, it was all the same.

"You snore when you sleep. Do you know that?" The smile came easy on her face.

"As long as I do not disturb anyone, I can snore all I want."

She chuckled, a simple huff of air and a shake of her head. Her curls bounced, like springs that denied being easily unraveled. "Point taken."

"So why are you here Susan Pevensie?" It was a line that Smaug realized he had repeated every time she would show up in his stolen home.

"Where is the music box?" Evasion. As always. He still hoped that Susan's honesty wasn't a one-time event caused by innocence and young age.

"It is where you left it. Would you like to play it again?"

She shook her head and then started wandering.

"Will you miss me?" She never spoke of her concern face to face. Never spoke of her problems with him so close and he realized it with this one.

"What situation would come that I will be missing you?" His tail hovered close her form, ready to assist as she once again went treasure hunting.

"Well…" Her voice muffled when she bent down to pick a long sash embroidered with diamonds.

"What?" He asked. Her eyes were wide with surprise at the sash in his hand, clearly amazed with the beauty of it. Like before, she was like the moon absorbing the sun's golden rays to make it more stunning.

"We'll be sent away soon. The war is getting worse and Mum cannot take care of us while in Finchley. Father is, thankfully, alive."

"And you think that maybe because of physical distance you will stop of dreaming this place? Dreaming of me?"

"No. Clearly, this place is of a different world. Maybe like Alice, this is all in my head." He clearly had no idea who Alice was and what was inside her head. It hardly mattered though, what was important was her visits may be cut off.

"Then what will stop you from dreaming about me?"

"I don't know, but better be warned than just disappearing. That is proper courtesy, yes?" She wavered, then slipped into the pile of gold. His tail was quick to the rescue in pulling her up, and her giggles when his tail wrapped around her waist was thanks enough.

"I am a dragon. I wouldn't know what is proper for you and your kind."

She laughed and Smaug was relieved it wasn't hollow. When the laughter ended, she bent forward once more and picked up a sword. He felt a brow rose in curiosity. The sword was clearly for dwarves, with its stone handle and heavy blade, and she could hardly lift it. She was too small and too frail for a sword of that build.

"How can one achieve harmony?" _Peter. Edmund. _Smaug was quick to follow on what was behind her questions. "If two people are clearly light and shadow?"

"One cannot be recognized without the other."

"But one can exist without the other." She started dragging the sword to where he lounged.

He knew that Peter was light and Edmund was shadow, and he could see that as the two clashed they would find a middle ground sooner or later. He had lived long enough to see it happen so many times. "And as someone viewing this clash, what do you think would happen?"

"Like someone being stuck in a room too dark or too bright. It would take some time for the sight to return, but when that happens…everything would be fine."

"Indeed."

She ended sitting beside his giant paw, admiring the sword she had with her and tracing it with feather light fingers. He ended up following her every move with his gaze. (_Watching, surveillance, and observation was something he did every day. This was no different._) "I'm scared of leaving."

"You'll manage. You wouldn't allow yourself otherwise." He couldn't see her being irresponsible, couldn't see her not being her bossy self.

"Won't you ask me if I want to stay here?"

Her hair jerked when he huffed. "I was just getting there lassie."

"Ask away." Her smile wasn't the brightest he had seen from her, but it was bright.

"Do you want to stay?" He broke the comfortable silence.

"I am not that selfish to leave them behind." Her reply was paired with a tilted smile of wear and determination.

"Being here is leaving them behind."

"Only for a moment, while I sleep. I always return."

"Always?" She chuckled at his question, mirroring his raised brow.

"One needs to wake when dreaming. Unless you want to end up dead."

"And you wound me with making me ask."

"Oh, you're a big dragon. You can take it." She scrunched her nose, her eyes twinkling. A tease.

"Bigger objects are easier to destroy as long as you know how."

"You aren't an object."

"Tell me a story Susan Pevensie, before your sass or sarcasm kills me."

She laughed again. A mixture of amusement, relief and mocking clearly noted.

She told him of a boy named Arthur who became king because of a sword. Told him of a wizard Merlin and a beautiful woman named Guinevere. She told him of the intricate kingdom of Camelot and he listened. Her voice lured him to slumber and when he woke up, she was gone.

He didn't say goodbye and it was an itch that never faded. Maybe it was better, or maybe it wasn't.


	4. 18 Talking Dragons

**18. Talking Dragons**

Years passed like usual and Smaug found himself waiting for Susan Pevensie to dream about him. He wanted to know if the war she spoke of was over, if her father was finally home, if her siblings were safe. He wanted to see how beautiful she had become. Sometimes he wished that he would dream of her, just like what happened last time. He started sleeping even more as there was close to nothing that took his attention anymore. Close to nothing of which to be considered entertainment. So he slept, thinking that maybe he would get a glimpse of Susan Pevensie's reality once more.

He was woken up by the swish of fabric and the stretch of string. Faint sounds that rung alarm bells in his mind. _Intruder. Weapons. _His ears noted the sound of breathing and the scent of a blend of flowers. He dug his talons to the gold under him, readying himself to spring to where the sound came from. There would be blood and food tonight for him, even when he was in no mood to feed. Food or entertainment? Hmmm… If they prove to be entertaining then maybe he would spare them alive, even if they were elves that smelled too feminine for his tastes.

"If you wish to keep your life, I advise that you put down that bow." His voice was bored and he kept his eyes closed. He could easily kill her, especially if he was a measly elf. Who would be stupid enough to wander inside here alone?

"If you open your eyes then you would know Sir Dragon that I wasn't drawing it against you."

_Woman. Flowers. Lilies._

His eyes opened instantly and turned to where he knew she stood. There standing where Susan Pevensie always stood when she came and left, was a woman in flowing blue gown and a simple gold necklace around her neck. Strapped around her body was a quiver and in her hand was a bow. Dark hair in a braid that ended down her knees heightened her pale skin. He knew beauty and could appreciate it, and he also knew of the clothes that women of Gondor wore. He also knew that women of mortal Kingdoms did not fight.

_Woman. Blue eyes. Lilies._

"Why are you here Lady Susan Pevensie? What had happened that you dream of me?" _What happened to your reality to come to me clad in such finery? Who are you?_

She blinked, clearly taken off guard of his apparent knowledge of who she was. She was obviously looking at him in a different light even before he opened his eyes and now that he had spoken, her eyes shifted from distant to probing.

"I have seen and met dragons, but I do not remember you among them." She tilted her head to the side, considering if he was friend or foe enough to not step back.

"And you remember each one of them?" Who was this Susan? His mind echoed.

"Of course." Disappointment curled inside his stomach, wondering the circumstances of why she would forget him.

He was the first dragon she met, wasn't he?

"We met in the past, wee lassie." He rested his head on his folded arms, lounging like a dragon can only do.

"Which past do you speak of? All the past that I can clearly remember, especially concerning dragons, was what I just spoke of." Even her way of speaking was strange to his ears. Gone was the innocent Susan, or the war torn teen, what stood before him was a stranger that spoke in tone and a way close to this world.

"Your past that I am of your dreams. Your past that is of a war your father is fighting in. A past of planes and explosives, stories of a boy that became king because of a sword."

Recognition came to her countenance and Smaug knew at least that he spoke of something right.

"What you say doth echo in me. A knowledge and a fear that curls within me. If what you say is true that you are a dragon in my dreams then you come once more in my slumber. Who are you proud dragon that I might know if you are friend or foe?"

"I do not come as I choose. I will promise you once more Susan Pevensie, that no harm would come to you as long as you are here."

"Your name Sir Dragon, so that I can thank you for such promise?"

"How would you know if I am friend or foe just by name?"

"You are the third dragon that preferred talking over eating me."

"And you have met many dragons?"

"You're name Sir?"

"Smaug."

"Not many Smaug. Thank you for assuring my safety."

"You are quite kind from what I remember in the past Susan."

"I hope I have been kind to you and you forgive me for not remembering."

"Would you like I tell you of our memories?"

"Can I come closer to you?"

He laughed and held out his paw. If there was something that he was thankful of, it was that she still wasn't afraid of him. He told her of what she told him, of Peter and Edmund being that of light and shadow. He told her of Lucy and how the gold in his home would've helped them through the war. He felt her body, as she sat by his arm, relax with every story that he said. Unlike their previous meetings, this was the most that he had spoken.

"So tell me Susan Pevensie, how are you and your family?" He relished her slight weight on his side and the way she moved closer for warmth, even when in this place, it was as hot as it could be for mortals like her. "How did you come to such finery and speak like of a noble lady?"

She looked at her clothes for a moment and then went quiet. He could see that she was thinking on what to tell him. Something he had known ever since the beginning of their friendship. Friendship?

"I will do my best to tell you as it has been years."

"We have the time."

She chuckled and her eyes twinkled with mirth. There was a calm there that he had not seen before. He had seen more too: contentment, wisdom, understanding, mischief and the ever quick thinking he had admired.

"I now live in a country called Narnia, where animals talk and trees breathe and dance. There are nymphs and naiads, mermaids and griffins. From what the tales tell, I lived in a place called Spare Oom in the land of War Drobe." She smiled, a simple tilt of the corners of her lips that told him that she knew it wasn't just that. That she knew more. She told him what mermaids, nymphs, and whatever creature inhabited her new home. Of course, she told him briefly of the dragons. "How we come upon this land, my brothers and sister no longer remembers but I try to, was through a wardrobe in the Professor's home. We were sent off as you said, at least as I remember."

She took a deep breath and released it through her rose petal lips. The mere action, after years of not absence, was hypnotizing to the dragon.

"We fought a war of our own in Narnia. A fight to liberate the Narnians from a hundred years of winter. It was a spell that was casted by the White Witch, who called herself as the Queen." She told him briefly about Peter and Edmund learning to fight with a sword. She spoke of a man called Father Christmas, who was the one who gave her and her siblings the tools they would need in their adventure. She told him everything she could tell him, like a historian to her audience. However compelling the way she told the story, it was all facts and devoid of opinions or emotions. He needed to watch and listen closely to know how she felt about a situation. "We've lived in Narnia ever since."

Of course, he knew there was something else she was keeping.

"How long since?"

"Six years."

"Why did you stay?" She froze for a moment and searching his own golden eyes.

"The Narnians needed us." She answered simply.

"How?"

"Rebuilding and cleaning up." He nudged her side with his snout, and showed her that he didn't believe it was just that.

"For six years? Such a long time."

"Of course. After a hundred years of winter, it's just a wink."

"What of your mother?"

Silence.

"I don't know. Aslan will protect her." She had explained who Aslan was, and he couldn't comprehend why she believed in this Lion so.

"Aslan. Your father?" His questions about her home, or maybe former home, always caught her off guard. He wondered if it was because she barely remembered, while he perfectly remembered every story she told him.

"I know not what happened to him, all I know that six years ago, he was still alive."

He called off himself when her voice became sad, hating the way her eyes turned dull and her words sounding so far away. "My apologies lass."

"You? Apologizing? A dragon?" Her eyes were still sad and he did his best to ignore the guilt. (_Him, usurper of kingdoms and bandit of treasures, apologizing to a young woman._)

"Never happened to you?"

She shook her head, her eyes closed and her long lashes like arcs of ink on snow. "In Peter's words, there is always a first. It makes me understand why my younger self liked you."

"You no longer like me then?"

"I find that I still do." She chuckled.

"Bow and arrows suit you."

"I do know how to use swords Smaug." She blinked and then looked at him with wide eyes. "I remember dragging a sword here," She blinked again. "And you were looking at me like my back would break if I even try lifting it."

He chuckled, both in sarcasm and relief that finally she remembered something.

"You need not laugh at me!"

"Do you remember anything else?" He asked.

She contemplated for a short while before shaking her head. "Nothing definite."

"Tell me about the dragons you have met. Have they tried stealing you away?"

"Thankfully, no. I am no Princess."

"But you are close, if not, then more."

Another surprised look from her and another chuckle from him.

"I am a dragon dear Susan Pevensie, I know how important one is with just a look."

"Is that why you spared me?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"I cannot hurt you because this is your dream, you told me such. Oh, and that I am a good dragon." He watched her as she regarded him with walled emotions.

"You are a good dragon."

The amusement that he felt when young, little girl, Susan told him those words years before wasn't what he felt. He felt a lightness in his chest that seemed to burst to the tip of his tail. A feeling that he hadn't felt in so long that he sneered at himself. Thinking that not even one woman's words would change the world's view of him. Not one woman's words could change what and who he was.

"You do not believe me."

"I don't."

Her smile was a boon, an understanding that he always received from her. A boon that he couldn't understand why he was worthy of it.

"Do you want to stay?" He asked, the usual ritual.

Her smile showed that she remembered and that she missed it too.

"I can't."

"Do you want to stay?"

"No. I do have a family to return to."

"Why such long hair?"

"Why so many questions?"

"Because there are many answers needed."

"Because I have the chance to grow it."

"That'll be a pain in the mornings."

"Indeed."

"I hope you would be visiting my reality next time." She stood up with a grace improved and a world so close to his own. "It makes me jealous that you do not dream of me, when I dream so much of you."

"I have seen your reality, you just didn't see me."

"I'll look harder next time."

"You wouldn't miss a dragon of my size."

"Indeed."

A hush descended on them

"Morning is upon us, and if thou art a heroine of a land I need to return you to your people."

"You wouldn't steal me away? Keep me captive in this home of yours?"

"As you said, you are no Princess."

"You are still a dragon."

"A good dragon, you said."

"Do good dragons escort ladies home?"

"Maybe I will be the first?"

"Then escort away?"

"Gladly."


	5. 22 Talk of Suitors

**22. Talk of Suitors**

Susan was shooting arrows at a dwarven-carved wooden chair in one of the great halls of Erebor. Smaug had heard her frustrated breathing and the continuous twang of arrows being drawn. The sounds woke him and made him curious. He knew it was Susan of course, few would dare enter the mountain not knowing the ways. Susan was the only one who was ever lost in the mountain, if there was another… then it would be easy work.

"What sin had the chair done to incur your wrath Susan Pevensie?" He approached her with booming footsteps but her concentration didn't falter. Arrow after arrow, she drew and released without pause. Her back was straight and her stance could rival that of the elves. Everything about her could rival the elves and overthrow the mortal women, from her long hair and beauty to her reserved speech and gentle actions. He watched and waited for her quiver to empty, wondering what had pushed her to such activity. Was it because she was lost that she did this to call his attention? Why did she not call instead? Mentally, he counted the minutes and found that her quiver wasn't emptied. It wasn't until the chair's back was filled with red fletched arrows did she stop.

"A magicked quiver, never to empty. Your Father Christmas is someone I would like to meet."

She was quiet and strode to the chair, intent of picking each one of her arrows and stuffing them back her quiver with measured movements.

"What sin had the chair done to you Susan?" She loved evading his questions or maybe loved making him repeat himself. Why didn't he stop with repeating? He needed the answers, because she gave him honesty or at least a degree of it.

"Being there when I needed it."

"What need?"

"A target practice." Her cheeks were red from exertion and sweat dotted her brow. She was wearing green this time and it hugged her figure like a glove. Whoever sewed her dresses knew how to accentuate her beauty even more.

"Whose head were you seeing?" He folded his arms and set his head on it. He let her once again resume her stance and string her bow to shoot.

"A lord's son who thought that butchering poetry and verse would earn me my hand in marriage."

Smaug raised his head and considered her. He shouldn't be surprised (_he wasn't_) that she would earn suitors. He really should've expected it especially with beauty, wisdom and youth rolled into one. He should've known that she would grow and would seek companions, would've a family of her own. That he, Smaug the Stupendous, was only her dream dragon.

"And how many is your tally of suitors?"

"A good number." Twang.

"Can you give me a definite one?" For all the dreams she had shared with him, he thought that she would at least give her answers easily.

"Twenty-four."

His head raised higher. Three more arrows were released. "Since you have come of age?"

"Some even before."

"And how old are you?"

"I came of age a few days after our last meeting. I was eighteen. I am now twenty-two."

"Your beauty must've been well known. Do you have Kings and Princes as your suitors?"

"Kings, princes, lords, noblemen, merchants, whoever you can think of."

"And you have not found anyone to be your husband? Among Kings and Princes that could and would give you everything?"

"I have everything they could give me. What I want are things they haven't even thought of. Or are capable of, for that matter."

"And that is?"

"Love, but that is too presumptuous for someone like me." She chuckled, once again pulling her arrows off the chair. "A quick mind and an understanding heart would be one… I think. Someone who knows the darkness and knows that I walk among it."

"For a heroine, you have your work cut out for you. You set high standards for men, dear child. For women's beauty as well."

"I am not most beautiful. There is Queen Swanwhite, which the books call the most beautiful. When she look on a lake's surface, her reflection would stay there for a year or so."

"And you believe it?"

"The centaurs remember her beauty and the fauns still speak of her with reverence. Who am I to not believe?"

"A beautiful woman of her own kind, incomparable."

She laughed at his words. "Charming aren't you so suddenly, Smaug?"

"Surely Peter protects you?" He settled once again, her words still echoing in his ears. _Charming? Of course he could be._

"Yes, and Edmund. Lucy too. I can fend for myself just fine."

"How fare they? Your brothers and sister?"

She approached him this time, wiping her forehead with her arm and a relaxed smile on her face.

"Life is good to us." She perched on his side like clockwork, echo of all their previous meetings. A comfortable silence that couldn't be thwarted. "Peter was given place in the military. Edmund spends his time in Narnian court. Lucy was granted an opportunity to excel in healing."

"What of Light and Shadow?"

She studied him, which was nothing new since they've been doing that ever since day one, and another relieved chuckle came. "Thank Aslan and Narnia, they exist and maybe even breathe abreast each other. They're a power to behold when they work together. It doesn't mean that they no longer fight, when they do it would be hard to pinpoint unless you know the signs. Peter would be easy, he's open with his emotions, he actually runs with it. Edmund, is indeed like shadow, he would keep his emotions in a little box for as long as he could and his mind would be the one you would see raging."

"And you?"

"Me?"

"You bear weapons, do you join Peter in being a warrior?"

"No. I work with him in some matters, but fighting is rarely one of them. I work more closely with Ed and Lu. I look after the Narnians and make sure that they gain as much allies as they could."

Smaug hummed in approval at the carefully scattered fields that they hold responsibility in. "So this is where the suitors come in?"

She huffed and scrunched her nose in irritation once more. His rumble of a chuckle resonated in the hall.

"Smaug?"

"What is it Lady Pevensie?" She was once again on her feet, looking up to the high ceiling and down to the columns that were ever remarkable from their simple sheer size to their workmanship.

"Can you tell me of stories of this place? Who lived here and what they did? Why this kingdom you stole?"

He told her the answers she sought. Of why gold was always the reason and that no one could covet on it as much as he would, and that he proved it with King Thror. He told her of how he had walked the streets of Dale observing and waiting for the right time. He told her how gold and treasure were a dwarf's life. He told her of the good things too. Of the feasts the King would give to everyone, may it be dwarf or a citizen of Dale. He told her of the trading affiliation of the city and the kingdom. He spoke of peace and plenty.

"And you came as their downfall." Susan whispered when silence was given a chance to reign.

He nodded.

He told her of the gold sickness and spoke of how he could feel it from miles away. How he, as a dragon, was stricken of it too, but not in a madness that could destroy. (_Susan chuckled at this, sarcastic and wounding._) Told her about the Princeling and his defeat. He painted their horrified faces with his words and he felt within him a delight so twisted.

"Narnia too has dwarves. They too are great craftsmen. They too are proud of their craft. They are Narnian though, so they are not a separate entity or kingdom so they still answer to Narnian laws. There are many similarities between them and the previous tenants of this place. I am not so sure about the gold sickness though."

"A full grown male dwarf, especially if he is on the taller side, would be your height."

That made her catch her breath.

"Are Narnian dwarves different?"

"The tallest I've met or seen is up to my waist."

"Another notable difference then."

"Do you ever get bored in this place, all alone? I think all you do is sleep and wander around."

"Close, but you also come and go as the wind to entertain me."

"An honor." She rolled her eyes at that and he was sure she would even give him a mocking curtsy if she allowed herself.

"I also fly out and set terror on some unfortunate place when I am bored."

She laughed. "A bringer of death you become because of gold and boredom. What a motivation."

"Do you fear me then? As you fear Death?"

"We do not fear Death, nor do we seek his coming, If it is time for us to meet him, then we meet him as an old friend."

"A perspective worthy of admiration, if only there are more like you in this world."

_How hypocritical._

He asked her many things about her Narnia and she provided him answers easily. In return, he let her ask questions of Middle Earth. He painted her the world that was outside the mountain. He showed her through words of the dangers and the vileness. Told her a little history of how there was no Aslan or any equivalent in this place. Whoever made this world had abandoned them. She would laugh and smile, but never did he saw her shed any tear. Sometimes her laughter sounded warped and he relished the sound, delighted to the truth that she too was sinister and that she knew it.

"Would there be anything else you wish to ask?" Because the silence would mean that the time of goodbyes were coming. He had realized that he wanted her hear, that his question of her staying was no longer a jest or a speculation.

"I am saving up for next time."

"Do you wish to stay?"

"And die of boredom? I am no dragon."

"You can help me find ways to alleviate it." If he was in his human form, which thankfully he was not, his smile would be too suggestive and roguish. In his dragon form it was all threatening and fangs.

"Visit my reality next time, I'll gladly show you how we have fun."

"Would I earn something in return?"

"Depends on the price." A game. It's been a long time since he felt the anticipation of being challenged and here was Susan weaving a game of her own conscious. Oh, she knew she was setting the game up. "Let me see you in Narnia first, then we'll decide."

"Such a challenge." He purred.

"I hope you victory."

He would make her pay the price.


	6. 24 Fragments of a Whole

Smaug tried and what he saw were mere fragments that he could barely start to understand. He didn't even know if those fragments were hallucinations, for being too bent on winning the game (_of seeing her_).

_Peter! _The first was a simple flash of colors and her voice as well as another woman's. He was thrown awake by the surprise of it all that it was too late to realize that if he had stayed asleep for a few more moments then maybe he had achieved his goal. There were other instances. A long hallway filled with paintings and a half man, half goat… a faun… walking beside Susan and who he could conclude as Lucy. There was a balcony and he was standing there frozen, with a view of a marvelous sea and the sound of the harp playing behind him. Another was of laughter, cold and snow, the sounds and sensations so strong but the blurred forms frustrated him.

Every time he woke up from such dream fragment, he was cross enough to destroy some room in the mountain kingdom. When he dreamt of nothing but a lion's roar, he flew out the mountain the moment he woke up, intent on destroying something big. He knew that someone, or something, was stopping him and whatever push he made was returned by a glimpse. Susan made it look so easy, how can he not do it as she did? Well, he decided, until he wins the game destruction would befall those he deem worthy of it. He has so few criteria anyway.

It was a frustrating few months, so to speak. Smaug's roars of fury could be heard all the way to Laketown and even beyond.

What could he be doing wrong, you ask? I have no idea. Though, I am sure it would be suffice to say that he did succeed with time, practice, and permission. You see, when he dreamed or wished to dream of dear Susan Pevensie, it was like fighting through a wall. A wall that would always be there and even his human, yet stronger than mortal, form couldn't destroy. It was annoying.

This was how success came and Smaug didn't know if he would kill someone when he wake or not.

It was dreaming of the mountain, or rather touring the mountain that signified his success. He found himself in Erebor's vast and untouched library, hearing the sound of music and merriment that shouldn't be there. (_Of course he knew he was dreaming._) He moved in a speed that was a manifest of his dragon blood, using his sensitive hearing to track it down. He weaved his way through the mountain, even seeing rooms that he hadn't seen before but cared less about. He had pushed debris and jumped over obstacles just to reach what he sought. All the while, preparing ways to exact his wrath when once again this was a hoax for him.

He pulled a heavy set of curtains too soon to even back up when he found himself in a large and bright room full of… creatures. His hand still gripping the curtain, he turned around to see that he came from a balcony that looked over a garden. A ballroom behind him and a garden in front. The realization made him grin so wide, barely contained when he turned to the gathering. There was a dizzying array of colors and sizes, creatures that he could identify just because Susan described them with such detail. Centaurs and fauns, animals - Talking Animals -, dryads and nymphs filled the room and outnumber the humans by a great percentage. The chatter was hushed and electrified with excitement. The humans, some who were dark skinned and wore such strange clothing, were anxiously looking at the grand double doors. The lighter skinned ones, of which he plan to identify with but to stir clear from, were chatting amiably with the Narnians. Every kingdom could be distinguished by clothing and looking at his own ensemble of black and gold, Smaug thought that he could pass not as a Narnian, but as one of their similarly light skinned allies.

There was a sudden bump at his side that made him look down. A cheetah (_another description from Susan, so few of the Animals in the ballroom could he distinguish_) was looking at him through ink-rimmed eyes. Two pairs of golden gazes, guarded and careful, measured up each other.

"You are someone I've not seen." The Cheetah (_he remembered the way Susan said it, clearly distinct_) purred without turning away from their eye contact. It was an easy challenge to understand his words, dragons and Cats seem to talk in similar ways.

"So are you, Sir Cheetah." He mimicked Susan's way of speech with a smoothness that would never betray his amusement or his apprehension.

"You did not come with the Archenland delegation then." He was the one to turn away to give the ballroom a sweep of calculated look.

"No. I came just now."

"Then I advise you take as much joy as you could."

"I am not much of a social person."

There was a twinkle in the Cheetah's eyes as he looked at him again.

"Few Cats are." Cat ears flicked this way and that, before coming still. The Cheetah then turned to the double doors which Smaug did so too, but only with his gaze.

"Announcing," Who would've thought that a faun has such a loud voice? Smaug thought, since the fauns in Susan's stories were quite gentle mannered creatures unless provoked. "The Kings and Queens of Narnia, and Prince Rabadash of Calormen."

There was a huff on his side and he gave the Cheetah a questioning glimpse. "Their Majesties do not like pompous entrances, especially if they could get away with it. Most of the time, they will even avoid the double doors."

"Isn't that a little childish?"

"Their Majesties were crowned young and it became so close to a tradition that all of us understood. Except the foreigners of course, so sometimes these things must happen."

The last words faded especially when Smaug saw who came out of those double doors. Faces he had seen in what seemed a lifetime ago, now matured and no longer stained with fear and anxiety. Peter, Lucy, Edmund, no longer children in body or in their souls. Peter was the sky. In one look, Smaug saw his sweeping look and his love for the people shining from his blue eyes. Peter reminded him of the Great Kings a long time ago (_rare were they in this time of his_), full of virtues and values. A man of light that was trying his very best to defeat his flaws and darkness.

"You are peculiar for an Archenlander." He blinked.

"Why?"

"Everyone had bowed, yet you were standing there stock still. I would've understand if you were Calormene,"

"This is the first that I have seen the Narnian Monarchs." _At least, three of them._ "Forgive my imprudence."

"Forgiven. I doubt the High King would even take offense."

"High King?"

"High King Peter, the Magnificent."

Magnificent. Fitting, Smaug thought with a nod.

Edmund, became the man Smaug had imagined him to be when he saw the lad back then. The recklessness was gone from him, and it was replaced by a wisdom that could par even the greatest strategists of Gondor. The young king cloaked himself of darkness, accepting his role as a shadow and relishing it. Unlike Peter, to approach Edmund was to enter a game with set rules but only one party would know it. A game of wits that Smaug wanted to participate in. Smaug knew of his burden of being a traitor, also knew of his deliverance. He could see it a constant weight on Edmund's shoulders. A burden that the king would rather keep than give to anyone else.

"Haven't you heard of them?"

"I have, but to have them before me is a different matter. Stories do get jumbled at times."

"Humans have fickle memories. If you need an accurate story, ask the Badgers or the centaurs."

"When I get the chance, I will."

"King Edmund the Just. I believe he would like meeting you,"

"If I be given the honor, I'd like to meet him too." The grin on his face was a little too feral, but no comment was given about it.

Lucy, who stood between her brothers, was blinding. She was a walking sun, bright in her happiness and good heart. Susan's description of her sister was too spot on for Smaug to even form his own opinions. Lucy was a woman who would and could hold on her virtues and beliefs even when the world around her was crumbling. _She saw Narnia first, believed in Father Christmas first, and followed Aslan first. She will always do._ She was flame, alight and ever moving. Free. This was the crying girl in Susan's arms the last time, and now seeing her again, Smaug doubted that Lucy would keep her tears for anyone undeserving. Little yellow flowers braided on her hair, the crying girl in the past faded in memory and was replaced by a woman of light that not even Smaug's fire could overpower.

"Lucy. Queen Lucy is a warrior, yes?" No one can keep her from it, Smaug can see it. Aslan could, he knew or maybe if her siblings work together to stop her.

"She lives by her title on being valiant. All four of them are warriors, but between the Queens, Queen Lucy is one to go forth alone or with her brothers to fight."

"Queen Lucy the Valiant. I couldn't see her otherwise."

Smaug was glad with how good fate had been to the children of long ago.

"Ah. Here she is, and the Calormen prince." Smaug detected sarcasm at how the Cheetah regarded the prince.

"You do not approve?"

"Look, and you will know why."

Smaug wasn't looking indeed, he was too focused on Peter, Edmund and Lucy as well as his Cheetah companion to even look past the three monarchs. When he looked past the three, he noted by then that the silence was deafening and filled with awe, and he understood.

"Ah."

"Look closer."

Smaug did, and he wanted to laugh.

He had seen Susan in gowns but compared to what she was wearing at this moment, those were nothing. The Susan before him was worlds different from the Lady Susan Pevensie that visited him. Compared to Lucy who wore bright colors, Susan was wearing dark purple that made her pale skin shine like that of the stars. Her dark hair (_still unbearably long_) was filled with flowers like Lucy's. Hers were large white flowers fashioned as a crown that gentled the darkness of her clothing, making it soft and nonthreatening. Smart. He looked at her face and found the familiar features. He found her eyes (_ice blue_) gentle and her lips stretched in a small smile. There was even a blush on her cheeks.

"Queen Susan the Gentle, most beautiful woman. One of the most powerful women of this age too, the other being Queen Lucy."

"The Gentle?"

"The Gentle."

Smaug shook his head. "Whoever crowned them,"

"Aslan."

"Made the wisest decision to crown her Gentle."

Smaug could see blood on her hands, so clear and bright. He could see murder in her eyes. He could see her beauty wielded like a dagger; discrete, precise, and dangerous. Gentle? She was far from it, but so close too. She was as secretive as a mouse, expert enough to weave tales imbued with what looked like little lies. Whatever her plan was and for whom, Smaug knew she would succeed. He turned his gaze to the man escorting her, the so called Prince of Calormen, and found him lacking for a woman such as Susan. The closest to her par, worthy of her was Edmund, but he was her brother and Smaug knew that they do not follow such tradition.

"You see what I see?" Smaug asked.

"Of course, she is after all our Queen."

"And you call her Gentle."

"Because she is."

"Tell me of the ways of this celebration, for I want to meet the Monarchs."

"Get the next dance, and to Queen Susan." The Cheetah bobbed his head and then slinked away.

The first dance was between Susan and Rabadash, which was good but far from beautiful as the dance was constrained. The music was far from what he imagined Susan or Lucy would dance to. This dance, well, was only a farce of large game. Wasn't politics always a lovely game? The moment the music slowed down, he started moving to the center of the room following their movements with his gaze. His mind racing with calculations on how to interfere and how to take Susan from the prince. Then the music faded to a close and applause rang in the air.

"May I?" Smaug was already there with his hand held out.

Rabadash' smile was fierce and Smaug needed to change his view of him for a moment. Maybe the prince wasn't as dumb as he thought. "I have not seen you."

"I just arrived. I do apologize I wasn't with the Archenland delegation."

"Is it you old friend?" Susan's face was bright with happiness, a far cry from the subdued gentle expression she was wearing a few moments ago.

"As promised, I come to see your reality." He made another fancy bow, taking her hand and placing it against his lips. This close, the scent of lilies came stronger and he took a deep whiff of it. "May I steal you away?"

"Stealing doesn't entail asking." Rabadash intruded their little moment, which annoyed Smaug.

"Well then," He took Susan in his arms and whisked her away, leaving Rabadash standing there. Pompous ass.

"You did it." Her astonishment made him smile as he swept her to a dance of which the steps were random but smooth. She easily followed his lead to a dance that was not clearly Narnian or anything else.

"I promised, did I not?"

"You didn't exactly promise." He touched one of the flowers and smiled.

"You didn't tell that you are a Queen."

"A little lie."

"How many lies have you weaved in the stories you told me, Susan who is Queen?"

"You grew so wonderfully. All of you." He looked up and pinpointed where her siblings were, all three of them dancing with someone but their burning gazes trained at him.

"You sound like a father."

"I wish not. All I am is an admirer from a far." He twirled her around and watched as her skirts fluttered. "A dragon, only wishing to acquire more treasures. To be mine and mine alone."

There was no blush on her cheeks but the way she smiled told him that she knew what he meant.

"Who said that this treasure is yours?"

"I've stolen it away, remember?"

Her laughter echoed and as much as he remembered, this was the first time he heard it so free.

BREAK

"Dear brothers and sister, I introduce a dear old friend of mine." Her hold on his arm never ceased, nor did he wish to let her go lest that horrid prince bore her once more. "Smaug of Northern Archenland."

"Your Majesties."

"You have never mentioned of a dear Archenland friend, other than Peridan and who we know that is." Edmund's stare was challenging, a quiet threat saying that he would know whatever secret he kept.

"Of course Susan wouldn't tell you. You would think he would be another suitor of hers." Lucy stepped forward and gave her brothers a smirk. "It's an honor to finally meet you Sir Smaug, my sister told me a lot about you."

_How many lies have your sister weaved about me? Does it even compare to the lies she told me about you?_

"Of course, if Susan did make a pact that she will tell nothing but the truth." Edmund echoed and Peter chuckled.

"Indeed Lu. Did Susan do such pact?"

"Do you not trust me with this matter brothers?" Susan's tone was lyrical and like a whisper of the deep. The whisper of gold to him.

"Shall we see how many lies she said?" Smaug grinned. "Maybe my words will ring more truth than hers."

And so, Susan and Smaug weaved a tale of Smaug of Northern Archenland. As they do, Lucy's gaze was alight with understanding and Smaug knew that Middle Earth Kings need to meet these sisters. As to see the true power that women can behold.

"What happened with the Prince?" Smaug asked once the dancing continued after Peter's short speech.

"As of the moment, planning your demise." Edmund smiled. "But surely you know that."

"Of course, His Highness seemed to be an easy man to bait. Jealousy is quite a drive."

"For you or for him?" Edmund approached Susan, whispering to her ear and then whisking her to the dance floor.

The moon and the stars doing their own dance.

"Sir Smaug, would you like to dance?"

Another round of dancing, this time with Lucy who chattered away about his life. His eyes often strayed to Susan and Edmund who were smiling and chatting, body movements a code of their own.

"They know you're watching them." Lucy quipped that made him blink. "And Susan wants you to be kind and talk to me at least. Edmund, well he's amused."

He watched Susan as her hands moved and then he heard Lucy chuckle. "What does she say now?"

"That I don't tell you that I know."

"Know what?"

"That you are her dragon."

"Her dragon?"

"Her dream dragon."

"Her?"

"You seem fine with the idea."

"I like you Lucy Pevensie."

"But you like Susan better. Which I am more than happy for. Peter doesn't show it but he favors you more than the prince."

"Why?"

"Susan is a great storyteller and between us and you, who had been manipulated?"

_We know. _His forehead scrunched together with confusion.

"You should ask her."

With a twirl, he found Susan in his arms rather than Lucy.

"They know?" was the first thing he could say.

"You've been a part of bedtime stories when we were younger."

"And they believe that I am the Smaug of your stories?"

"Lucy is a good judge of character." She sneaked a glance to Peter, who was dancing with the same woman the High king had been dancing with two songs ago. "And do you know that Smaug the Dragon and Cats do purr when they speak?"

"You are far from Gentle, Susan Pevensie." He purred.

Her eyes were ice blue and shone with murder concealed perfectly except from him.

A few dances later, she asked him. "Shouldn't you be waking up?"

They were standing on a balcony, the same one he saw when he came. The same one that laid behind him when he chatted with the Cheetah. "I need to ensure something first."

"Which is?"

"My reward."

"I honor our bargain Smaug, tell me what it is that you wish and as long as it is within my power, I will provide it to you."

"That is good to hear."

"Would you wish your reward now?"

"No, not yet."

"Oh."

"Move along Susan Pevensie, and dream of me."

She smiled, rose petal lips and ice eyes. After placing a kiss on the corner of his lips, she turned and disappeared.

He woke up sprawled on his gold bed and feeling more content than he'd ever been.


End file.
